The Dallas daily herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1887, 1887-05-27
MAX, THE LITTLE HERO.

field Republican.
1t was sad-looking village in which
little Max lived with his parents. For
days and days people had been wan
dering forth from their houses across
the fields into the woods. They drove
their cows and sheep and goats before
them; on little hand-carts they drew
household goods,-spinning-w wheels,
tools, clothes and bedding. The men
had anxious, careworn and angry
faces; the women carried the children
and cried and sobbed.
Max stood with his father in the
door OF their house and looked after
such procession which had just pass
ed.
"Come with u.s." said peasant who
came last because he led a stubborn
pig with rope. Come with us. If
the enemy enters the village he will
burn the house over your heads
that's what you'll get. In few
hours the devils will be here, and
then you will hardly be able to
save your naked lie,-which after all
is left to us poor, chased people"
81 cannot leave" said Max's father.
al have a sick child, and cannot drag
it into the forest to be exposed to the
night air which would Kill it,"
''Then let at least the boy come
with me-" said the peasant. HE is
only in your way if it comes to the
worst"
'Do you think SOL" said the father
thoughtiully. "Better cared for he
certainly would be. And if the worst
happens, one OF us at less would be
saved. You would take care OF him
and protect him. Heis a child still -"
mo, father, that am not" cried
the twelve year.old boy, who had
listened with wide-open eyes and
serious face to the conversation OF the
men. 81 am no child, and am not
afraid, and | will stay with you and
mother and Anna. II you do not
leave, also need not run away. /
stay with you, father" he added half
begging, half assured, and stepped up
close to his father, looking into his
face with loving eyes.
Thus Max remained in the village
One family after another left, until
the houses and streets were deserted
and no one lived in the village but the
two children Max and Anna, with
their parents. In the afternoon Max
went to the neighbors' houses and
looked in at the windows and over
\ the fences and saw how Che wind
played with the straw blades in the
yards. There was no sound to be
heard, it was as il every one was dead
and buried. The old nut trees rustled
gently in the wind and then all was
quiet again.
How strange that people are afraid
OF each other in war time" said Max
to himself. GAS il the soldiers had no
parents, no homes, and would set
other peoples houses on fire just out
of sheer ugliness, as our neighbors'
said. Such soldiers must not be the
right kind OF men-who knows where
they came fromY"
He went to ask his father to give
him some information about it, but
his father had no time, for he went
twice an hour up on the hill behind
the cemetery and looked do wn into
the valley.
MAX" he said in the evening, when
the mother had sent the boy to bed,
.'try to fall soon asleep, for to-mor-
row we must be up early"
Max crept under his blanket and
was soon asleep. His mother looked
after little Anna, who was asleep too,
then she set the oil-lamps in the cor
ner of the room on a chair, over the
back OF which she hung shawl, so
that the light should not disturb the
children in their sleep. then she gently
closed the door and went into the
next room to her husband.
For a moment she pressed both
hands before her face.
What is it?" cried he, putting
down his pipe andgrasping the arm oil
his wife.
my heart feels 30 heavy" she said,
and dropped her hands.
as Anna worseH" he asked anx-
iously.
mo. thank God" answered she,
"bnt the worry, the anxietyl Now
we are all alone in the village, quite
alonel Listen only how quiet It is;
neither man nor animal moves, not
even the clock in the tower strikes
any longer. II is like n gravel"
Tomorrow am afraid it will be
louder" said the father. Toward